


Of Artists and Admirals

by Joe_Reaves



Series: From the Ashes [3]
Category: Empire Records (1995)
Genre: Alternate Universe - Modern Setting, Apocalypse, M/M, Plague, Pre-Slash
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2010-04-14
Updated: 2010-04-14
Packaged: 2017-10-08 22:41:56
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,170
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/80245
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Joe_Reaves/pseuds/Joe_Reaves
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Two strangers meet in the middle of an empty city. (set at the same time as Is There Anyone There?)</p>
            </blockquote>





	Of Artists and Admirals

Admiral Christopher Perry took one last look around his family home, the home where his children had grown up and where he happily entertained his grandchildren several times a year, and then shouldered his kit bag. It had been a long time since he could pack everything he needed in one kit bag, but with his wife gone and his children scattered across the country, there was nothing left for him here. The power was still on for now but he knew it wouldn't last much longer and with no one left to bring deliveries of food into the city, it would soon become a very dangerous place to live. Some of the scenes he'd seen on his way back here from Annapolis made him think it already was.

His car was almost out of gas but he took it anyway, for the same reason he locked the front door behind him; it was habit. Something comfortable that reminded him of better times. He would take the car as far as it would go and then he would walk. He was heading to the shipyard. It was no longer a naval base in the way it had been when he had served there, but it would still have supplies, vehicles, everything he'd need to start on his journey.

His gas ran out only a mile away from his house; he supposed he should just be grateful it had got him all the way home but he didn't feel very grateful right now. Shouldering his bag again, he decided to cut through the park and enjoy its quiet beauty one last time before leaving Philadelphia. Other people might return one day when they'd got themselves back on their feet again, but he wasn't sure he'd see it. It would be younger people who would rebuild the world, not his generation. He knew other men in his position might have just given up and stayed where they were, waiting for the power and water to turn off and the food to run out or have found a final use for the service revolver he carried with him, but it wasn't in his nature to quit. As long as he was breathing he would try and find somewhere he could live, where he could find food and shelter and hopefully other survivors. He might not be able to do much to rebuild their country but he could pass his knowledge and experience on to those who would.

The park was beautiful, but emptier than he'd ever seen it. Even in the depths of winter when there was snow on the ground and the trees were traced with shimmering frost, there had been people around. Joggers and dog walkers in the early mornings and then later families or couple just enjoying the fresh air and tranquillity in the middle of the city. Walking through it now he could almost believe he was the last man alive.

Turning a corner he stopped in his tracks. Suddenly he wasn't alone. There, on a slight rise, sat a young man with a sketch pad, absorbed in his work as he drew the Philadelphia skyline. As he quickened his pace towards the young artist, a small part of his mind pointed out that he was really quite attractive; slender, but not too skinny, with shoulder length hair which he had to keep stopping to brush out of his eyes. When the admiral got close enough to cast a shadow over his drawing, the artist looked up and started slightly.

"Good morning," Christopher said with a smile. "I hadn't expected to find anyone else here. I thought the only people left in Philadelphia were the gangs roaming the streets at night."

The artist smiled up at him and he was caught by warm, brown eyes. "I don't have any way of leaving," the younger man told him. "I don't drive and even if I did I couldn't afford a car. I'm a student at the University of the Arts." He stretched a hand out towards Christopher. "AJ," he said.

"Admiral Christopher Perry," he introduced himself. "My car ran out of gas so I thought I'd take a short cut through the park. I'm glad I did. Why don't you come with me?"

"Just like that?" AJ asked. "You don't know anything about me. And where are we going to go anyway; you don't have a car."

Christopher smiled again. "No, but I know where we can get one. Well, I was going to steal a truck actually so I could take some supplies with me. There's an emergency shelter about two hours from here. The navy were building it but it wasn't quite ready and even if it had been things happened too fast for it to have been put into operation. It should have water and generators though, fuel, and hopefully other supplies. I was hoping other people might think of it too and we could find other survivors there."

AJ nodded and stood up. "It sounds better than staying here although ..." He cast a longing look at the museum on the other side of the park. "I wish there was something we could do to protect that place. Even if it doesn't get vandalised or damaged, no one will be back here for a long time. The art will be damaged by the elements creeping in or just gather dusts, abandoned in the dark." He sighed. "You probably think it's a stupid thing to worry about right now, but it's such a shame that the beauty in there won't survive for people to see in the future. No one will know that we used to create things like that before everything fell apart."

Christopher nodded thoughtfully. "Well, maybe if we get a big enough truck we could take some of it with us. If we can find a stash of gasoline at the base we could always make a couple of trips..."

Laughing, AJ shook his head in disbelief. "You want to rob an art museum? First grand theft auto and then high end art theft; are you sure you're an admiral?"

He shrugged. "Well, why not? Like you say, a lot of it could be lost forever if we leave it where it is and I like the idea of future generations, if there are any, knowing that we weren't just fighting for our lives, that we could appreciate beauty as well." He looked at AJ again and smiled. "In all its forms."

AJ ducked his head and blushed. Only a few minutes ago he had been sitting here, alone, contemplating the fact that he would probably never see another friendly face and he'd die here and now he was talking about robbing a museum and being flirted with by a handsome older man. He grinned. "You're on. Let's go find that truck and embark on a life of crime. You've corrupted me." He smiled slowly. "And I'm planning on enjoying every moment of it, Admiral."


End file.
